Until It's Gone
by Immersion
Summary: If Klaus let Stefan go and had not insisted that he gave up everything to save the life of a certain Damon Salvatore, how would the relationship between the two change? A story of 2 - 4 chapters. How both of them deal with pride and remorse.
1. Happenings

This is just a drabble that popped out of my mind.

Say, what if Klaus let Stefan go? And had not insisted that Stefan give up everything to save Damon? Of course Klaus would be back; we don't want the show to end too early now, do we? Just a thought of what might have happened if that was the case. (Seriously, I could hardly stand the thought of the brothers separating again.)

Well, a story of two to four chapters. Depends on reviews.

This is my first story in which I write in third person. Honestly, I prefer first person much more but I guessed I might as well try. So, do tell me where I need improvement? I'd appreciate it very much!

Last but not least, before I cease my rambling, this story is dedicated to an awesome friend of mine, Sherry. It's her birthday today.

Happy Birthday, Sherry! Stay happy always. ;)

Okay, on with the story!

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><p>He had eyes the color of the sky, two great sapphire lakes that were more often than not as cold and piercing as dry ice. He could cast a mere glance and that alone could call for one's impending death. He was a person who knew no boundaries and, as he once said, he didn't do feelings either.<p>

Feelings were obstacles shooting out of nowhere to obstruct one's path. Feelings only got in the way. So, if one had the choice, why let them get in the way?

Damon Salvatore was a vampire, but he wasn't _any_ vampire.

He was a vampire with a reputation.

Which was one reason why he still couldn't comprehend his current situation.

He was lying against his mattress, his head settled deeply into his pillow, sending his soaked midnight black tresses sticking out in clumps in a messy disarray. His eyes were shut, concealing the now dull blue orbs from the world, as if shielding another from witnessing the pain within.

Despite his lack of activity, anyone could tell that he was anything but well. His complexion still left traces of sweat no matter how many times one would grab a towel and wipe them off. He was breathing too erratically, his chest rising and falling at an inconsistent rate as if, at any time, it could simply stop. His fingers twitched by his side once in a while, his body seemingly wanting to toss and turn, but unable to find the energy to.

This wasn't the Damon Salvatore anyone was used to. The Damon they knew didn't need help, and would never ask for help. The Damon they knew was strong and insufferably annoying. They never had worried before for him; he had never needed it.

Until now.

No one said it out loud, but no one denied it either. Damon could have died, and he still could die. He had been given the cure about two and a half hours earlier by a panicked, panting Stefan who had then uncharacteristically fallen to the floor in his haste, almost spilling the blood as a result. All of them who knew of Damon's plight – Stefan, Elena, Alaric, Bonnie, Jeremy and Caroline – had quickly gathered in his room in hushed tension, hoping that the cure would work. As for Katherine, she had resigned herself into disappearing into thin air.

It was already a known knowledge among them that Klaus' blood was indeed the cure. But whether the dosage to completely rid the venom in Damon's system was enough was still a mystery – Damon had to suffer the aftereffects longer than Katherine had to. It was a mystery that they couldn't help but hope would soon be solved positively.

Damon, who had clearly been uncomfortable with being the center of their attention, had typically rolled his eyes at his audience, demanding their immediate leave.

_I'm absolutely flattered that all of you are here, but..._

Nevertheless, his younger brother didn't know if he should worry that Damon still had it in him for his sick sense of humor.

_...door's that way. I won't see you out if you don't mind._

Or that Damon might not have been joking when he said the one sentence that jolted Stefan like nothing else did.

Because, no matter how much Stefan had denied it, the deep acceptance in his brother's voice had rang all too clearly.

_I just can't lie on my death bed in peace, can I?_

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><p><em>Damon glared at his room occupants half-heartedly, narrowing his eyes in what he hoped to be obvious irritation.<em>

"_Don't say that, Damon. I told you, you're not dying today." Stefan was bent on his left knee, his head hovering right next to his older brother's worriedly._

_The said person riveted his attention to Stefan and growled softly. "Shut up, Stef."_

_Stefan quirked an eyebrow at the nickname but otherwise remained silent when Damon plowed on breathlessly._

"_Fine, I won't die today, alright? Come back when it's midnight," he snapped._

_Stefan let out a soft sigh and gave Damon a chastising glance, which the latter completely ignored._

"_Well?" Damon rasped roughly. "I don't know how long I've been _out of it_ but do tell me-" he let out a loud, racking cough "–if the rules of courtesy had somehow changed during that amount of time."_

_Elena arched an eyebrow. "Rules of courtesy?" She repeated, and would have had to stifle a snicker of irony had Damon not been so fatally sick._

_Damon graced her with another glower, albeit weak, of his. "Yes!" he snapped. "I can call this trespassing since I have already asked you to leave. So leave!" His voice strained a slight pitch higher near the end._

_Elena folded her arms, shaking her head. She gave him a worried glance before motioning the others to leave the older Salvatore's room._

_Stefan, who still lingered behind, watched silently as the rest departed, some of them such as Alaric and Jeremy offering the subject of their worries small smiles of assurances._

_Damon rolled his eyes._

"_You don't have to act so indifferent, you know."_

_Damon tilted his head to the left to stare at Stefan. His eyes, weary and worn, locked onto his younger brother's._

"_You're going to be okay." Stefan smiled softly and patted Damon's shoulder._

_Confusion welled in Damon's eyes before disappearing amidst a wave of nihility._

_A long-drawn out silence crept between them._

_Damon's eyelids suddenly slammed shut as a grimace contorted his facial features. He scrunched his forehead, making it crinkle as he squeezed his fists tightly._

"_Damon?" Stefan murmured, his voice imbued with worry. He straightened his posture, his shadow towering over his sibling's countenance._

_After what seemed like eternity, a soft sigh escaped Damon's dry lips as he visibly relaxed. "I'm fine, Stefan."_

_Stefan swallowed the lump in his throat and was about to speak when Damon asked, "Where's Katherine?"_

_Stefan started. "Now that you mention it…" Stefan tilted his head, listening. "I think she left. I can't hear her anywhere."_

"_That, or she's being unusually quiet. I would have thought she'd take this chance to gloat at my _condition_," Damon winced._

"_Go to sleep, Damon. You need to rest."_

_Surprisingly to both brothers, Damon settled deeper into his pillow, his shoulders slightly losing that tense position. He blinked wearily as Stefan stood up and squeezed his shoulder. It wasn't long before Damon's eyelids slipped over his blue orbs and remained shut._

_Without another word, the younger Salvatore turned to exit the room, but not before he heard a whispered _thank you_._

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><p>Once in a while, someone would climb the stairs into Damon's room, meaning to check if all was fine: whether the vampire was awake, if he was still in pain, if he needed help or even someone to talk to.<p>

And, every time, each would come down and simply shake his/her head and say 'Still the same'. And every time that happened, the worry that had gnawed at their hearts would strengthen and continue to grow.

Stefan, who had been pacing restlessly, cast his head in the direction of his brother's room. His stance was tense and rigid.

"He's going to be okay, Stefan." Elena came up behind him and slowly wrapped her arms around his waist tentatively.

Stefan didn't resist, though Elena wondered if he would. He had seen her kiss with Damon after all but had completely overlooked it after a moment's hesitation. Guilt, alongside with her worry, nearly incapacitated her.

"Yeah," he whispered softly. "He will."

The six of them – Stefan, Elena, Alaric, Bonnie, Jeremy and Caroline – standing roughly in a circle, stared at each other, some at nothing.

"Well, he's Damon, right?" Bonnie spoke up. "He'll be fine."

"Damon is not Damon when he tried to kill himself," Stefan muttered quietly, too soft for any human within range to hear.

One head, however, immediately jerked towards Stefan.

"He tried to what?" Caroline repeated, disbelief lacing her words.

Stefan looked at her, realization quickly catching up to him. He feigned surprise at her question. "He tried to what?"

Caroline shook her head slowly, eyeing Stefan suspiciously. "I thought you said…" She paused, noticing the alarmed expression flitting through Stefan's complexion. Her lips thinned. "I guess I heard wrong."

Stefan nearly sighed in relief and internally cringed at the thought of Damon's wrath should he discover that his little brother had leaked what would no doubt be a sensitive issue when Damon was up and about again. Well, Stefan hoped that Caroline would have that much decency to keep it under wraps.

He had hoped that maybe…just maybe their relationship could be salvaged now that Stefan had tried to save him.

Maybe Damon would help him pick up the pieces again.

Stefan sighed.

Why did he only realize things when it was almost too late? When his brother had nearly died in a fire during Founders' Day; when his brother was dying _again_ because of some wolf bite. How could Damon be so careless anyway?

But Stefan couldn't do anything about it, even if he realized it earlier. If Damon had seriously asked them to reconcile as brothers, he wouldn't hesitate to try, though he would always be wary. He could still recall his brother playing the fool again, asking him to start all over, and then ending off with that infamous, insensitive smirk of his.

It hurt, though he never wanted to admit it. Hope had risen in Stefan despite his attempts to suppress it. He wanted to believe Damon. He was actually willing, but reality had been quick to slap him in the face for even thinking of such an impossibility.

_But is it really impossible? Now?_

The stray thought crossed Stefan's mind. He frowned, his forehead creasing into tangible lines. The wall he had built to hold a series of piled-up thoughts in a corner of his mind started to crumble loose, slowly giving Stefan the optimism that perhaps it would work out. As _impossible_ as it was, he knew the gap between Damon and himself had narrowed. Little, but still worth rejoicing.

Stefan couldn't help but remember how close they had been. Once.

He exhaled loudly. "I'm going to go check up on him."

"Perhaps all of us should go too. I mean, what's the point of constantly sending someone up there. Might as well send him a permanent 'guard'." Caroline stared at Stefan pointedly.

Stefan almost smiled. "And risk him sending him off into another tantrum?"

Caroline frowned. "Maybe not."

This time, the corners of Stefan's mouth lifted faintly. "Maybe not," he echoed.

_If only…if only Damon would be okay, with no doubt whatsoever. _That was the one thought which accompanied the Salvatore as he made his way upstairs.

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><p>Damon moaned softly, a soft hiss escaping his cracked lips. He clutched his left arm carefully, hoping to ease the throbbing pain. His eyelids slipped shut for a moment, shutting out the blinding light.<p>

Despite the recent gaps in his memory, he could still remember with mild amusement the over-dramatic entrance of his little brother when he was brought the cure. Damon thanked his rare lucky stars that the blood hadn't spilled. He had the nagging suspicion that nothing would have stopped Stefan from forcing him lick the floor clean if that was what it took to save his life. Stefan then had proceeded to shoot up to his feet, this time carefully moving over to Damon and practically shoving the bottle's contents down his throat.

Damon winced as sharp burst of pain shot through his left arm. If he had not been used to pain, one mere throb would have been as unbearable as to send him into a frenzy. Alas, it did not. Unfortunately, as often as life liked to make a fool out of people, Damon was used to pain.

"Someone's alive and well."

Damon's eyes cracked open in aggravation and he had to bite back a groan.

Katherine was standing near the open doorway, an unreadable expression on her features. Her gaze traveled to the arm Damon was clutching. "Still hurts?" she asked, her tone indifferent.

Damon's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you want, Katherine?"

Katherine shrugged. "Nothing. Just bored. Klaus won't bother me for some time, especially since he'll be occupied with all the changes in his...body. So," she eyed Damon almost curiously, the corners of her lips twitching, "no one to run from. Not yet, anyway. Thought I'd check up on you."

Damon snorted derisively. "That, or is everyone ignoring you? Including your precious Stefan?"

Katherine strolled across the room and flopped herself beside Damon, ignoring his sudden wince of pain. She tossed her hair back and tilted her head towards the Salvatore, as if searching for something.

"After all that he did for you, you still hate him?" Katherine mused aloud.

Damon shifted slightly and their eyes met, two cold blue eyes searing their frozen depths into hers. "Whatever feelings lie between Stefan and me has nothing to do with you, Katherine," he replied dangerously. "I'd appreciate it if you stay out of our affairs."

She lifted an eyebrow almost condescendingly. "No need to be so agitated, Damon. It was only a question."

"Well, stop harassing me and get out. I'm in no mood to deal with you right now," Damon muttered.

"You know," she continued, taking no notice of Damon's words as she fingered the end of his shirt, "I prefer you this way. Weak, helpless, but also defiant." Katherine propped herself up, a hand supporting her head as she gently moved her wandering hands to his neck.

A flash of anger gleamed in Damon's eyes, a hoarse growl emanating from his throat. "Get your hands off me," he snapped.

"Why, you have hands too, Damon. Why not stop me yourself?" A small smile crept into Katherine's countenance, her eyes glinting.

Damon's lips parted again but stopped when Katherine placed her finger across his mouth. "Shhh. No one's going to come up here. All of them are too busy celebrating Klaus'...parting. Don't you see?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The moment they knew you'd live, they left, didn't they, Damon?"

The said vampire displayed his usual mask of indifference, despite a slight furrowing of his brows, but for the first time, there was more than a hint of feeling than the situation actually demanded. Hard, cold anger. "Shut your mouth, Katherine. At the very least they wanted me alive."

Katherine let out a small laugh. She pressed the palm of her hand on his cheek, hardly shifting when Damon's hand jerked up to grab her wrist. She leaned forward slightly, the curls of her hair tickling his jaw. "Being alone really sucks, I know. But it's going to be okay, Damon. I won't hurt you," she whispered.

"You already have."

Both vampires looked up towards the door. An expression of relief flitted through Damon's facial features as he growled, "Where _were_ you? It's hurting like _hell_."

Stefan walked into the room briskly and eyed the hand on Damon's cheek warningly. "Katherine... Get your hands off of him."

Katherine flicked her gaze to him and smiled. "Why, you're not jealous, are you?" she asked playfully.

Stefan's eyes narrowed. "Get your hands off," he repeated slowly.

"Before he makes you," Damon added helpfully. Stefan glanced at Damon and gradually nodded.

Katherine rolled her eyes. "You guys are no fun." Pulling her hand back, she stood up from the bed and faced Stefan. "Happy now?"

Stefan hardly paid her any glance as he moved himself to stand beside his brother. "Are you alright?" he asked awkwardly after a moment.

Damon moved his arms to sit up but was quickly supported by Stefan's strong ones. Stefan guided him up carefully, allowing Damon to lean against the headboard. A look of frustration crossed the older Salvatore's complexion.

"You'll get better," Stefan soothed gently.

"I'm not a child," Damon snapped.

A small, sad smile graced Stefan's features in response. Damon stared at him, but looked away just as quickly.

"Well," he began, nonchalance creeping into his tone. "I'll feel much better when _she_ leaves."

There was a pause.

"Why don't you leave, Katherine? No one wants you here. You've done your part, and Klaus is 'gone'. There's nothing to hold you back from your freedom." Stefan tucked his hands into the pockets of the front of his jeans, his oak green eyes trailing from his brother to Katherine.

Katherine let out an annoyed huff. "How about a 'thank you' instead of chasing me out? Is that how you thank someone who risked her life to save your lives?"

This time, it was Damon who arched an eyebrow contemptuously. "No, but that's how we thank someone who risked her life to _save her life_," he retorted, accentuating the last word with his trademark smirk.

A small scowl crept into the 500+ year old vampire. "I said I was sorry. About Jenna. What else do you want?"

"She's fucking _dead_, Katherine."

"It was either her or me. Do you expect me to die for someone I barely know? Would _you_ have done something like that, Damon? Given up your life for a stranger?"

Damon shot her a patented death glare but seemed to simmer down. Stefan watched the two of them carefully. It must have been his imagination but Stefan could have sworn he caught faint traces of understanding in his brother's eyes. _Did facing death change him that much?_

"Hey, now's not a good time to fight. Katherine," Stefan glanced at her. "Please leave. Damon needs his rest."

"Yes, he does," Damon muttered.

Katherine rolled her eyes and mouthed a 'whatever' before turning to strut out the room. The moment she left his field of vision, Damon let out a small sigh.

"What did she tell you? You seemed rather agitated."

Damon glanced at the younger vampire out of his peripheral field of vision. "Nothing much," he answered curtly.

Stefan nodded in response, lapsing into silence. He surveyed the neat room, not knowing what else to do. A small part of his mind absent-mindedly registered the fact that, however much a psychopath Damon was known to be, not a speck in Damon's room even hinted that its owner was a tad bit crazy.

"So," Stefan began uncertainly.

"I'm fine, Stefan," Damon interrupted. "You don't need to go all emotional-" he stuck out his tongue "-with me. I can't take it."

The wry quirk of a half-smile crossed Stefan's complexion as he caught faint hints of mirth in his brother's tone.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Damon asked, readjusting his position carefully.

"How long will what?" Stefan tilted his head to the side to face Damon.

Damon held his head high as he riveted his attention to the ceiling, the water from his sweat-soaked hair dripping onto his pillow. His jaw stiffened slightly.

"How long will I be like-" he gestured to his body "-this?"

Stefan bit his lip. "I'm not really sure."

Damon sat up quickly and wasted no time in plowing on with his question. "What do you mean you're not sure? Didn't you say Katherine was cured in seconds? And it's been..." he trailed off, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

Stefan offered Damon soothing glance, nodding in affirmative. "She was. It's been almost 3 hours."

The Salvatore's blue eyes widened fractionally. "3 hours?" He cursed under his breath. "Tyler Lockwood is so 'gonna owe me."

Damon watched his little brother in annoyance. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm not laughing."

"Fine, you're smiling. Is there something absurdly amusing about my plight?"

Stefan's smile widened. "No. I just...it's just... How are you feeling?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Fantastically fabulous." His smirk widened at Stefan's chastising look. "Much better, thank you very much," he amended.

The two brothers fell into silence again. A comfortable silence.

"Sit down, will you? You're distracting me with you standing there like a dumb statue."

Black eyebrows lifted at the statement, but Stefan complied nonetheless, carefully settling down on the edge of the bed.

"Much better. I've no need to be reminded how short I am, little bro."

Stefan chuckled softly.

"Hey, can't you talk or something?" Damon grumbled, his annoyance clear. "What are you, my guard or something?"

Damon's pleasant aura melted away. He turned and glared at Stefan. "Are you?"

Stefan shrugged. "Someone needs to check up on you."

Damon groaned. "Get out." His eyes flashed. "I mean it."

"Oh, come on, Damon. You said so yourself that we should come again."

"I said to come at midnight."

"It's past 1 in the morning."

There was a pause.

"I take back what I said. Now, get out."

"No can do brother. You're sick. It's my responsibility to stay and look after you."

A growl rumbled from Damon's throat. He did _not_ need looking after. "On the account that I've never been nice to you, won't you _please_ go away?"

Stefan shrugged, his shoulders lifting slightly before falling into his somewhat hunched position. "Well, take it this way, Damon. If I left, I would be nice by following what you said."

"Oh, when did you become so annoying?"

Stefan smiled in mild amusement. He could already see it, how Damon's eyes were regaining their glow, still cold and piercing, but still... Damon was going to be okay. He wasn't going to die.

But a small part still nagged at Stefan's mind, tugging at his very thoughts.

Damon could leave.

Damon could simply get up and follow up on his promise that he would leave the moment Klaus' problem was solved. Stefan couldn't help but feel a little weak at the thought. If Damon wanted something, not many could stop him. And especially not him.

_But how can I be so selfish as to want him to stay? ..._

"Damon, what do you think of going on a vacation?" The words trickled out of Stefan's lips in a disordered manner so quickly that he was unable to catch and replace them before the object of his worries could hear.

Damon stared at Stefan, incredulous, almost as if Stefan had just pointed out that the Sun was green. And layered with red dots. Stefan almost laughed.

"What?"

Stefan hardened his nerves. "Do you want to...uh go on a vacation?" he repeated slowly. Damn it, he was so going to _kill_ himself for this later on. The incredulity on Damon's face had quickly morphed into nothingness as Damon covered his ambiguity with a blank stare.

"You want to go on a vacation with me?" Damon asked, uncharacteristic skepticism etched in his voice.

Stefan nodded silently, unable to find the words to speak.

A thoughtful look took over Damon's complexion. "Sure. Why not? Who's going? Where are we going? I don't care. That place has to be fun and amazing. Or you can go without me."

Stefan's jaw nearly dropped. "You said yes?"

"Technically, I said sure, little brother. Now, why don't you go off to your little friends and discuss, no? I want to rest." He gave Stefan his best wink.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, shoo. Your big brother wants to sleep." Damon grabbed the drenched pillow beneath his head and, after throwing it to the floor, dragged another to replace it.

He smoothly settled back with a thinly disguised smugness about him as Stefan slowly got up to exit the room.

"Oh, and Stefan? Bring Katherine along."

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><p>Well, boring I know, but please review! Constructive criticism very much appreciated.<p> 


	2. Personal Confusion

Thank you for the reviews and all! I greatly appreciate them!

**Warning**: I have encountered another round of writer's block. I've been thinking how to write this chapter, and have re-written it too many times, all failing miserably. School is, unfortunately starting next Monday, and I'll have to prepare and focus all my attention on my studies (I'm taking the major examinations this year, and sadly, it's my top priority; writing is but a form of de-stressing and hobby). So, I'll have to wrap this story nice and quick. I hope it'd be nice, because I really have no idea which words to stitch together.

Okay, seems like I forgot the disclaimer the previous time.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Vampire Diaries or any of its characters.

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><p><em>You're still sick, Damon. Get on the bed and <em>don't_ move, will you?_

A small, uncharacteristic scowl contorted the Salvatore's features as he folded his arms tightly across his chest, unable to throw his brother's words that constantly danced before his mind's eye out of his train of thoughts. Another wave of indignation rained on him, tempered only by the concern that had been etched in Stefan's voice.

_Damon! Please! Stay on the damn bed!_

A soft breath escaped his dry lips. Who was his little brother kidding? He was fine! Maybe not up to his tip-top everyday condition, but okay nonetheless. The scowl became more prominent. _He_ was the older brother, _not_ Stefan.

_I'm fine, Stefan. _I'm_ the older brother, not you._

_A wilful, stubborn older brother, you mean._

Damon glared at the dust trailing before his eyes as if they were to blame, wishing he could erase them out of existence. He hunched over the railing, leaning as much of his body weight as he could onto the cold metal. Other than his hair flailing madly under the current of air, Damon stood as still as a statue, as motionless as only a vampire could be.

He had donned his typical black t-shirt and jeans, his inhumanly pale (too pale, as Stefan had kindly put it) skin a stark white against the midnight dark fabric. Standing barefoot, his toes closed in on each other as a feeble attempt of a shield from the wind that blasted from the skies above. The weather only gave cloudy skies and little more than a breeze, but it already proved too much for the vampire.

And Damon hated it. With a passion.

He absolutely loathed the fact that he was _weak_. That he was _sick_. That they - humans, vampires and witch alike - had to _look after_ him. Every time someone so much as uttered 'Damon, are you okay?' or 'How are you feeling, Damon?', an immediate surge of anger would rack through his mind, a deep, crazed fury that simply yearned to explode.

And the fury only amplified whenever it was _Stefan_. A series of rage-filled questions tore through his mind before he absent-mindedly pushed them away.

Another inaudible sigh left Damon's parted lips as a single drop of sweat trickled down his cheek. He shivered slightly.

"Damon?"

Damon instantaneously stiffened and clenched his fists as Stefan appeared at the doorway, scanning the room in confusion. The latter looked towards the balcony (Is there a balcony?) and his oak green eyes widened.

"Damon! What're you-" he took in Damon's trembling form and his eyes hardened. He sucked in a deep breath. "Get -"

"Out of my life," Damon muttered sullenly.

Stefan blinked, his words dying in his mouth. Hurt wailed at him, overriding the surprise, as he stared at his brother, completely rendered speechless. His hand which had initially reached for Damon's shoulder dropped, as if brought down by a sudden weight. Confusion clouded his verdant eyes.

There was a moment's pause as Damon waited for Stefan's biting remark. When all he heard was an abrupt intake of breath, he turned slightly, arching an elegant eyebrow at his brother's still shocked composure. His annoyance tipped down a notch.

"What's wrong with you?"

Stefan parted his lips, his gaze still locked on his sibling's countenance. "I...no. It's nothing."

Damon rolled his eyes and his lips thinned. The roaring fury raging through him flared as he eyed Stefan warily, knowing why his brother had come up to his room in the first place.

Attempting to quell the fire inside his cold, blue eyes, Damon swiveled to face Stefan fully. "Look, I'm fine. Now go away."

Stefan swallowed and composed himself. "No, you're not fine, Damon. Look at you." He gestured at Damon's form. "It's cold out here."

"I _am _fine, and it's _not_ cold," Damon snapped, a tinge of irritation quickly slipping into his tone.

Stefan tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Your very appearance contradicts your words, Damon."

"Just leave me alone, will you?"

"Come inside. It's warmer."

Damon shot a penetrating death glare at his younger brother, the pounding anger longing to be let out radiating off him in thick waves. His body shook ever so slightly, but be it from the cold or rage, Stefan couldn't tell.

"Damon..." Stefan eyed his brother cautiously.

Exasperation and worry started to congeal in Stefan's heart. It had already been close to three entire days since Damon had taken the cure. The side effects of the bite had but disappeared entirely, but in its place came the fevers and colds. Just the previous night, Damon's temperature had risen to as high as 39 degrees Celsius, a temperature that was supposedly impossible for a vampire to reach.

Desperate, and not knowing what to do, Stefan had quickly called Bonnie to help.

_Bonnie gave a sigh and looked up at the Salvatore hovering beside her. Stefan slowly lifted his gaze, dreading her answer._

"_How is he?"_

"_He's definitely having a fever. A very bad one." A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "He's healed, Stefan. Completely."_

_Stefan relaxed slightly, turning his head to stare at his sibling's sleeping form. A thought occurred to him. "But then, why is he so sick now? Suddenly he's assaulted by this series of colds, coughs and fevers."_

_Bonnie shook her head. "I don't know, Stefan. No one's been healed of a werewolf bite before. Even if it has, we don't have the records of the aftereffects." A thoughtful look took over her features. "But I have a theory."_

_Stefan looked up at her, prompting her to continue._

"_When he was bitten by the werewolf, and had to suffer the effects of the bite... Maybe... Perhaps his immune system was wrecked along the way. Maybe that's why he's suddenly so sick. His body couldn't fight them off any longer."_

_The Salvatore's eyebrows furrowed at Bonnie's guess. He slowly nodded. "You might be right." A fearful look entered his green eyes. "He won't- I mean, he'll get better right? His body won't stay that way forever... Can it?"_

"_It's just a theory. But if his immune system is indeed messed up and everything, he should heal. Even humans can heal, what's more a vampire. And we're talking about _Damon_." She smiled. "He won't fall because of some fever, Stefan. Have some faith in him."_

_Stefan grimaced. "Faith in Damon... Something is truly wrong with the world."_

_Bonnie laughed. Stefan went back to watching over his brother as Bonnie exited the room to join the others who had discreetly waited downstairs._

It certainly didn't help that Damon constantly kicked up a fuss every time anyone so much as uttered a word to him. Like slamming the door shut into Caroline's face when she tried to coax him to get down for breakfast. Elena had thought that, maybe walking around a bit would lighten the sick vampire's mood, and the blonde vampire had cheerfully volunteered to talk him into it, but apparently Damon had been in no mood to talk.

The vexation amplified as Stefan took in Damon's obviously weary body coupled with his dark eyes full of defiance.

Stefan sucked in a deep breath. "Come inside, Damon," he repeated gently. "Please?"

The words in Damon's mouth caught, his glare softening to a hard stare. He flicked his gaze away and walked briskly passed Stefan into his room. "Just so you'd shut up."

Stefan shrugged lightly and followed his brother into the room. He watched silently as Damon clumsily clambered onto his bed and settled himself into his usual spot with a slight huff.

Damon stared at the ceiling for a moment. "You know I don't need a guard dog, right?"

Stefan cocked an eyebrow pointedly. He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and walked over to a shelf stacked neatly with books. He bit his lip as he fingered each book curiously, taking in the titles.

"You've always liked reading," he murmured.

Damon's gaze trailed Stefan's every move with an unusual neutral precision. He paused. "You, little brother, are so annoying."

Stefan smiled faintly. "Isn't that what little brothers are for?"

The older Salvatore fell silent, the hushed atmosphere falling over them like a shroud. Stefan returned to observing the row of books, listening intently to his brother's breathing.

Stefan was the first to break the silence. "We're leaving first thing tomorrow morning, if you're up to it."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Katherine?"

Stefan studied his brother's face carefully. "She was surprised, if anything," he said slowly.

"That doesn't answer my question, Stefan."

Stefan shrugged. "You didn't really ask anything, but...she said that she wasn't like us." At Damon's questioning glance, he continued, "That she wasn't dumb enough to be tied down to anything."

The black-haired vampire didn't respond, opting to return to staring at the ceiling instead. His blue eyes seemed to dull for a moment, arousing a dreadful suspicion in Stefan. _But it couldn't be..._

"We should go for a really long holiday," Damon muttered.

Stefan looked up. "Define long, Damon. For a vampire, that's a really long time."

"You know what I mean," Damon snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"Stop being so uptight, Damon. You don't have to go around snapping at us all the time. Do you know how hurt Caroline was?" Stefan shot back, bracing himself to fall into a battle of wills.

"Do I care?"

Stefan inwardly groaned. "You just have to make things harder for us, don't you?"

The older vampire proceeded to flip over his side, turning his back on his Stefan. That was the last straw.

"Fine. Be that way." Stefan shot his brother a heated look before stalking out the room.

* * *

><p>"I don't get it," Stefan started. "I mean, what did I do? Why is he so...angry?"<p>

Alaric stood beside him, eyeing Stefan carefully. The others - Elena, Bonnie, Jeremy and Caroline - had only left recently to prepare for the impending trip, insisting that the two stay in case Damon got a 'little bit out of hand'.

"It's not really that hard a guess, you know." Alaric shrugged. "I mean, that's Damon."

"Damon doesn't throw around tantrums. Damon is always sickeningly annoying, and throws his sick humor around whenever he can. And, _Damon_," Stefan emphasized, "always expresses his anger of any kind on people."

"Isn't he annoying and venting his anger on us now?" Alaric asked.

"Meaning he goes off to kill the object of his anger."

"He can't exactly kill us off now, can he?" Alaric returned. He reached out a hand and patted Stefan's shoulder lightly. "Think about it. Damon, the one person who has never asked for help, is _sick_. He _knows_ he needs our help, but that doesn't mean he has to like it."

"I mean, you don't actually feel all that happy when you're sick," Alaric continued, his eyes glowing slightly. "I think it's perfectly normal for Damon to be that way. I'd worry if he's not."

Stefan rolled his eyes. "Seriously, look at him. He being sick doesn't give him an excuse to be angry with us. We-"

"Oh, doesn't it?" Damon's voice sneered derisively from the stairs. His figure walked into the room, albeit lacking his usual confident stride. His blue eyes were unreadable as they fixed themselves on a set of oak green eyes.

"I wonder," he began, his voice a tad bit softer, "who had very pointedly given me the cold shoulder when I forced him to take his medicine? Not once, but every time he fell sick until he finally became mature enough."

Stefan stared at Damon, recalling perfectly the times he fell sick as a child.

_No! Don't give me that!_

_- A chiding voice - Stefan, don't you give me that. Come on, it'll be over in a second._

_They taste awful!_

_A little bit of unpleasantness wouldn't be so bad now, would it, when you become all well and lively again? Stefan, don't pout at me. It's unbecoming of you._

His older brother's coaxes had always ended up with Damon threatening to ignore him the rest of the day. Not one to lose out, Stefan had been the one to ignore Damon the moment the medicine was halfway down his throat.

"I was only a child. _You_, on the other hand, are more than a century old!"

"Whatever, little brother. I am not in the mood to argue with you." Damon flicked the company another glance before heading for the door.

Alaric watched him carefully and asked, "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere I don't have to see any of you."

"Damon..." Stefan growled. He stalked forward and grabbed his brother's arm. "You aren't going anywhere."

Damon shot Stefan an angry glance. "You're not stopping me."

"Watch me." Stefan tightened his grip as Damon rounded on him, barely leashing violence.

"You _will_ let go of me, Stefan," he spoke quietly. "Before I make you."

"You're _sick, _Damon. Please, will you just keep that in mind? You can't just go strutting out the front door whenever you feel like it!"

Frustration ripped through the younger Salvatore as the two brothers glared at each other, each refusing to back down.

"When you were out of it, I'd always take you out to town despite all the damned protests. I don't see why I can't do so now. And don't you forget, _little brother_, I am the older one here."

"Fine then. I'll come with you," Stefan retorted.

"I can take care of myself!"

Stefan paused. Forcing himself to take on a calm tone, he nodded slowly, as if afraid of setting Damon off. "Yes, you can. But you're not leaving this house unless I come with you."

Damon's lips parted, ready to throw his brother another statement of conflict when Stefan continued, "Damon, please. I'm worried about you."

"You've long established that fact," Damon muttered quietly after a moment. Raising his voice, he looked Stefan in the eye. "I'm not a child; I can look after myself just fine."

He eased himself out of Stefan's grip and continued for the door. He paused. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

He turned the doorknob and walked out just as night began to dominate the darkening sky.

The door slammed shut.

There was a long, uneasy silence.

"I'm going after him," Stefan announced.

"Stefan, he is right. He's old enough, and you don't think a fever or such will bring him down, do you? You're being overly-worried." Alaric folded his arms, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. "He certainly won't appreciate it either."

"Alaric, this is Damon. He's not even supposed to be sick. He's supposed to be quipping those sarcastic remarks of his." Stefan started for the door and, like Damon, paused. "He can hate me all he wants. I don't care."

For the second time in less than an hour, the door was forced opened before being slammed shut again.

"Both of them can be so overly-dramatic sometimes," Alaric muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He turned and headed for Damon's collection of bourbon.

* * *

><p>"Damon!" Stefan called, catching up to Damon easily. Initially wanting to touch his brother's shoulder, he tucked his arms beside him, not wanting to provoke the older vampire. "Damon, please don't ignore me."<p>

Damon walked quickly, his hair already windblown as they flailed about madly. "What are you doing, Stefan? Can't a grown vampire go out into town without his brother hovering over him like he'd die any second?"

His tone was weary and tired, but the harsh words certainly stung.

"Alright. I'm paranoid. I get it. But, Damon... Please. Either you go back to the house, or we go together."

The words that escaped Stefan's mouth came out rather bitterly. When had he ever sounded so insanely pathetic to his brother? _For_ his brother? A part of him rejected this role of 'looking after' Damon; another part embraced it as if it was the most natural thing to do.

It was simply downright strange.

"Aren't you already following me?" Damon muttered, cutting through Stefan's thoughts.

Stefan kept his mouth shut, not knowing what to respond to that. Both of them walked in silence, walking in any direction that Damon chose to walk. The air started to turn chilly as night fully took reign, casting eerie shadows to lurk silently behind the trees towering above the two brothers.

Stefan watched Damon out of the corner of his eye, his eyes never failing to notice every time his brother shivered, or when Damon frowned and ducked his head slightly at a sudden gust of wind.

Finally, unable to stand the subtle signs, Stefan shrugged the jacket he rarely wore off and draped it over Damon's shoulders.

"You're cold. Wear that, at least," Stefan murmured.

"I-" Damon began but abruptly stopped. His hand whipped up to cover his mouth as he stopped in his tracks and turned to the side, his back facing Stefan - all in less than a second.

"Damon?" Stefan asked uncertainly.

In what was a strange, quiet walk, it had quickly ended up with Damon falling on his knees and retching by the sharp blades of grass. In one fluid movement, Stefan was by his side, his hand already patting his sibling's back soothingly. Damon shook slightly under him, his coughs racking throughout his body as he struggled to compose himself.

"Are you okay?" Stefan hesitantly asked when Damon fell quiet and unmoving.

Just when Stefan had come to accept the fact that Damon wasn't going to answer him, Damon spoke up, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"Why did you find the cure, Stefan?" His voice was barely a whisper.

A jolt went through the younger Salvatore; his mind went black.

Damon continued quietly, "Why do you never listen to me? Do you enjoy my suffering so much?"

Stefan continued staring at him, stunned. What was Damon saying? Confusion bubbled inside him, clouding his judgment, his mind, his very thoughts. He wondered briefly if the words were even meant to be heard.

Damon's head tilted slightly upwards, casting his head to the sky as his perplexed blue eyes trailed along the glowing lights.

"You went to Klaus... You..." His mouth seemed to work to find the right words. "I don't think I can forgive you for that."

Stefan's eyes widened perceptibly.

Damon turned to look at him, seemingly unperturbed by the words escaping his parted lips. His countenance was strangely calm. Too calm.

Stefan swallowed, his stomach suddenly writhing with dread. Damon being so angry... Was that the reason? But why had he been so mad at the others as well?

"Why-" Damon met his eyes, two startling blue lakes against a pair of green pools of echoing confusion "-do you keep forcing me to live?"

The words had fallen to as soft as a passing breath, but they knocked into Stefan's mind sharply, cutting through him as he realized an alarming possibility. One he had completely overlooked with his desperation.

Damon stood up, tottering slightly on his feet. He placed the jacket back on its owner's shoulders.

"You're right," he murmured, his voice a tad bit louder. "It is cold."

He turned and walked into the night, his presence fading. Stefan remained rooted to the floor, the empty spot beside him as cold as the one who had only recently stood there.

A single thought ran through his mind.

_What if he didn't want to be saved?_

And he wondered...how they were going to end up this time.

* * *

><p>Please review and tell me if I should just continue this story or just delete it and move on.<p> 


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